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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25455310">i didn't get to say i love you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/certifiedclown/pseuds/certifiedclown'>certifiedclown</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Emotional Hurt, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Fluff and Angst, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Whump, Getting Together, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Hurt No Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Insecure Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Mentioned Roach (The Witcher), Oblivious Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, POV Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Pet Names, Pining Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Sad Ending, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Witchers Have Feelings (The Witcher)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:34:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,289</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25455310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/certifiedclown/pseuds/certifiedclown</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Loving Jaskier was easy; losing him was not.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia &amp; Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia &amp; Roach, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>75</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i didn't get to say i love you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Geralt is many things</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He's a Witcher, a fighter, a hunter, a mutant, a man, a monster, a white wolf, a devil, a mage, an omen, an </span>
  <em>
    <span>abomination</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt is many things.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He's never been a lover.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then he meets a bard by the name of Jaskier, a little lark whose voice rings in his ears like the songbird he reminds Geralt so much of, a man whose eyes are so blue they seem to glow with their own magic even though his medallion is silent and still on his chest despite their obvious enchantment, a man whose skin is as soft as the petals of the flower he's named after. He meets Jaskier. And everything changes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At first, it's almost like nothing has changed at all. But then he wakes up some mornings to Jaskier puttering about their camp with fresh berries set next to his bedroll on a clean cloth, singing softly under his breath, his gently coaxing voice seeming to almost give Geralt the strength to get up and begin packing away their things, sneakily eating the berries and slipping the cloth - a handkerchief with the initials J.A.P stitched neatly into a corner - back into Jaskier's bag before mounting Roach, ignoring the bard's indignant cry at being made to walk yet again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The noise the bard comes with would be new, but Geralt has lived for many years and he is used to noise - to screams and cries and pleas and insults and threats and death calls -- and silence because silence, too, is a noise and it is deafening. But the bard's noise is different. It is familiar, but in a distant way - as if it is something he has forgotten, something he had buried before walking the Path, something he had known before </span>
  <em>
    <span>the grasses</span>
  </em>
  <span> - something easy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier's noise reminds him of late morning's baking bread with his mother, quiet evenings spent being told great tales of knights and dragons and princesses, and sleepless nights being gently lulled to sleep by her nonsensical lullabies.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier's noise reminds him of what it was like to be loved.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because Jaskier is loving.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because Jaksier has a wide array of nicknames that he easily sprinkles into his conversations with or about Geralt, and they’re never demeaning or mocking or scornful. They're soft and fond and maybe a little ridiculous - far too genuine as if he actually thinks Geralt is the names he says so casually. It's almost too much for Geralt to even process at times. But he doesn't hate it, so he says nothing and the bard keeps doing it. And late at night - long after Jaskier has fallen asleep - Geralt lies awake in his bedroll and closes his eyes and remembers the way Jaskier let the words roll off of his tongue, the shape his lips made around them, the smile in his eyes as he said them. And he tucks them into the open, oozing wounds in his heart. And he </span>
  <em>
    <span>feels------</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>------it's morning and the soft grey light of the sun is filtering into his room and it's cold and he's shivering but Eskel and Lambert made him a blanket and it's clumsy and its got holes in some places, but it makes him feel warm------ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>------all he can hear is thunder and the shriek of rain and it's hot and humid, but the farmer he contracted with let him stay in the barn with Roach so he's not wet and there's a lantern so he's not in the dark and it's not much but it's enough------ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>------he's sweaty and flushed and shaking and the woman he's just laid with is holding him and he's pressing into her touch and skin desperately but she just hushes him and strokes his hair until he falls asleep and he knows he paid her for her company but she didn't have to sing to him------</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>------he feels </span><em><span>so</span></em> <em><span>loved.</span></em></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because Jaksier says, “Good morning, darling,” when Geralt wakes up in the early hours of the morning, barely conscious and bleary eyed, blinking sleep away with a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat. And Jaskier simply smiles at him and turns away and pretends he doesn't notice it when Geralt sneaks his handkerchief back into his bag.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because Jaskier calls out, “Hey there, sweetheart,” as he walks into an inn and spots Geralt right where he left him, sitting in the corner table with his ale and bowl of stew, waiting for any brave souls with contracts. And Jaskier smiles at him and slips into the seat next to him and steals his ale and stew, taking a sip and a few quick bites before picking his lute up with a glint of excitement in his lovely blue eyes and a flush to his cheeks. And Geralt can't look away even as the bard leaves his table to perform, angling his head to follow his form as he disappears into the crowd and begins his performance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And, despite what Geralt's said about his singing, he finds himself mesmerized by his voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because Jaksier calls him dear, and baby, and angel eyes, and all of those pet-names that Geralt had never imagined would be used to refer to him. And some that he's never even heard before; pet-names that he should hate because he's a Witcher and Witcher's aren't made to be someone's beloved. Because the Butcher of Blaviken wasn't made to be called dove, or beautiful, or gorgeous. Because Geralt of Rivia has never been any of those things to anybody. And yet here they are - with Jaskier casually using these words to describe him and Geralt letting him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And maybe he's reading too deeply into it. Maybe it's not that strange. Maybe it doesn't mean anything at all. After all, Jaskier uses those words for many men and women. Men and women who titter and flush and let him into their beds for a night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But maybe he is looking deeply enough because he uses those words for men and women who let him into their beds, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>comes back to Geralt in the morning. Because he uses those words for Geralt who doesn't titter and flush and let him into his bed for a night. Because he uses those words for Geralt and he always has that </span>
  <em>
    <span>look </span>
  </em>
  <span>when they fall from his pretty mouth - soft eyes and a gentle curve to his mouth that's unbearably fond and a touch too smitten for Geralt to look at for long.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt, who doesn't titter and flush and let him into his bed. Geralt, who thinks not about tittering and flushing, but about letting him into his bed more and more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And it all comes to a head one night where Geralt is relaxing in the bath and Jaskier is strumming at his lute. It's in this moment that it hits Geralt all at once - the names, their effect on him, Jaskier, the life he's unknowingly made with him, how it's all been so easy and good and comforting that he didn't even notice it creeping up on him until it was too late. It's in that moment that Geralt realizes he's a fool and that he's been in love with his bard for countless months.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lets this revelation sit in his head as he steps out of the now lukewarm water, his permanently chilled skin quickly growing cold now that there isn't any warmth for it to soak up. He lets it sit there as he dresses in his underthings and does last minute maintenance on his armour to distract him from his buzzing thoughts, unable to stop himself from sneaking quick glances at Jaskier as the hour drags on later and later.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then Jaskier yawns sleepily and they're getting ready for bed, and his heart thudding loudly in his ears like he's in the middle of a battle with a kikimora. And then Jaskier extinguishes the oil lamp and throws them into darkness, and Geralt finds some courage and reaches across the bed to pull Jaskier into a decidedly clumsy kiss that the bard sighs into contentedly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then they're kissing and kissing and kissing and if Jaskier minds that he's so cold, he doesn't say anything and presses closer like this is all a dream and Geralt might disappear if they stop. And then Jaskier angles his head and deepens the kiss and it's so easy and good and comforting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything has always been simple and easy with Jaskier. It figures that falling in love with him would be just as simple and easy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then everything changes again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because now they share everything - a bedroll, the berries Jaskier gathers in the mornings, the ale and the stew, the coin from contracts and performances, the beds and baths, the kisses and touches.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And everyday it's------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>------sunset and it's the first one Geralt's ever seen so clearly before with no trees or buildings to block the view, only clear skies and a lovely blend of vibrant oranges and pinks and purples that burn gently in the fading light of the sun------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>------a waterfall with sparkling clean water and beautiful colorful fish and glittering rocks inside with deer lapping at its edges, a loud rushing roar of water that echoes off the rocks and trees like a gentle melody------ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>------like hearing Jaskier sing for the first time with the audience cheering and smiling and laughing and his fingers dancing along the stings of his lute skillfully as he takes in the energy from the people, hair a mess, cheeks flushed, blue eyes wide------ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>------almost like falling in love all over again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because now Jaskier whispers, "Good morning, dear heart," when Geralt wakes up after a particularly taxing night in bed, face squashed against his bard's chest, listening to a heartbeat that's become more familiar than his own. And when Geralt grunts out something unintelligible and buries his face even further into the expanse of Jaskier's warm skin, his bard laughs breathlessly and hauls him up to press kiss after kiss after kiss into the chilled skin of his neck and face, mouthing over his jawline until their lips meet in a open mouthed kiss that sends Geralt's heart racing like he's a teenager again - like he's </span>
  <em>
    <span>human</span>
  </em>
  <span> again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because now Jaskier calls out, “Hey there, love,” as he walks into an inn and spots Geralt right where he left him, sitting at a table closer to the front with his ale and bowl of stew, waiting for Jaskier and any brave souls with contracts. And Jaskier smiles at him and slips into his lap with a quick kiss placed onto Geralt's lips and steals his ale and stew, taking a sip and a few quick bites before picking his lute up with a glint of excitement in his lovely blue eyes and a flush to his cheeks. And now Geralt angles his face up so that Jaskier can place a lingering kiss on the apple of his cheek before performing. And now he doesn't even bother to pretend like he's not watching the bard perform, shamelessly letting his eyes follow his form as he dances around the inn, stealing fleeting kisses here and there between breaks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And now once he's done and they're alone in their room, tangled together in bed, Geralt whispers his praise to Jaskier's sleeping form because he can't keep it to himself any longer but he is not brave enough to say it when the man can hear him. Instead, he whispers it all to the sleeping form of the man he's grown to love and it will be enough for now. Until the day comes that he gathers his courage and says it where Jaskier can hear and he can watch the pleased surprise bleed into his bard's expressive face because surely he'll be pleased to hear what Geralt </span>
  <em>
    <span>aches</span>
  </em>
  <span> to say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because Jaksier calls him doll, and cuddlebug, and handsome, and all of those pet-names that Geralt has slowly come to accept </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span> be used for him. Because he may be a Witcher, but even Witchers deserve love. Because the Butcher of Blaviken might not have been made to be called sweetie, or treasure, or sugar, but he's learning to be. Because Geralt of Rivia might not have been any of those things to anyone before, but he is now. Because they are here - with Jaskier casually using these words to describe him and Geralt letting him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And one day Geralt will return the favor and call Jaskier by his own names - ones made just for him by Geralt. One day, Geralt will speak of all of the things that burn in his heart, spill his guts to Jaskier because Jaskier will listen and cherish his words. Tell Jaskier what he really thinks of his singing and his fancy doublets and blue eyes and soft brown hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally say those three words back to Jaskier when he says "I love you" and kisses him because he knows Geralt isn't any good with words, but he can make an effort for Jaskier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But nothing ever goes as planned and soon Geralt is left alone again, robbed of his bard in a single night. And his blood is still fresh on his clothes and the dirt of his grave is caked underneath his nails. And the pain is all encompassing, a deep cut, an aching chasm in his chest - he oddly feels like someone's cracked his ribs open and ripped his heart out and left him to bleed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And someone has. They've stolen what mattered most to him, took it and broke it and left him with nothing. They've killed the love of his life and he hadn't been able to stop it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can still feel the slick press of Jaskier's ribs against his hands as he'd desperately tried to push his blood back into him and keep him alive and breathing with him. But it hadn't worked and Jaskier had died with a "darling" on his lips and an "I love you" in his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt had never been able to say it back, but he had screamed it then - a piercing sound with a rawness to it that bleed and shook the gentle tranquility of Jaskier's now grave-site. Geralt almost thinks that if he really listens, if he really tried, he might still be able to hear the echoes of his scream in the silence that's only broken by his breathing now that there's no chatter-box standing next to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sound of silence is familiar, but it feels wrong now - like it doesn't belong because </span>
  <em>
    <span>it doesn't.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Because Jaskier should still be here with words and pet-names dripping from his lips like the rain drips from the clouds and the tears drip from his eyes. Because Jaskier should be </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because Geralt is alive and Jaskier should be too. Because they're Geralt and Jaksier and there is no one without the other, but Geralt is alone and left missing his other half.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything has always been simple and easy with Jaskier, but this is not.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And everything changes again because there isn't anyone to share his bedroll with anymore, there isn't anyone to eat berries with because there isn't anyone collecting berries on their handkerchief with J.A.P stitched in the corner, there isn't anyone to share ale and stew with, there isn't anyone to share coin from contracts and performances because there isn't anyone performing, there isn't anyone to share beds and baths with, and there isn't anyone to share kisses and touches with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Geralt's------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>------a child again and his mother has left him and he's alone in a large cold stone building with other abandoned, unwanted little boys and an old man whose name he doesn't remember and his chest </span>
  <em>
    <span>aches------</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p><span>------just gone through </span><em><span>the grasses </span></em><span>for the first time and his teeth and head and bones and muscles hurt and his eyes are rimmed red from crying because so many of his brothers have died and he hasn't and he feels </span><em><span>so</span></em> <em><span>guilty------</span></em></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>------a new Witcher and he's just killed his first man and he's shaking and hyperventilating because he's never faced a monster wearing human skin before and he's never taken a human life before and he doesn't know what that makes him because with the way the people are looking at him he has to also be a </span>
  <em>
    <span>monster------</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>------never felt grief this large or this acutely before and he doesn't know how he'll move forward when everything around him is lacking and he's in waist deep molasses. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because now Jaskier isn't here to whisper, "Good morning, honey," when Geralt wakes up after a contract gone wrong, arms wrapped tight around his waist. Because now his bard isn't here to giggle and smile and kiss and kiss and kiss when Geralt grumbles grumpily about being woken up before the sun has even risen and pulls him down for a kiss that's longer than it should be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because now Jaskier isn't here to call out, “Hey there, hero,” and walk into an inn and spot Geralt right where he left him, waiting at a table with their ale and bowl of stew, waiting for Jaskier and any brave souls with contracts. And now Jaskier isn't here to smile and laugh and sit in his lap and eat and drink their food and ale. Jaskier isn't here to pick his lute up with a glint of excitement in his lovely blue eyes and a flush to his cheeks. Jaskier isn't here to place a kiss on Geralt's cheek before performing for good luck. Jaskier isn't here to watch perform, to steal kisses with between the breaks of songs and notes and dancing because there isn't anyone to sing or play or dance anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier isn't here to whisper praise to in the dead of night. Jaskier isn't here to sleep beside him in bed, to touch and talk to and sleep with. And Jaskier won't be there to listen to what Geralt should have said when he was alive and Geralt won't ever be able to see his reaction to all the things left unsaid because Jaskier won't ever hear it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because now Jaksier can't call him babe, and sexy, and cutie, and all of those pet-names that Geralt knows will never be used for him again. Because he's a Witcher and he was a fool to think he could ever love and be happy. Because the Butcher of Blaviken had learned to be called cupcake, or my life, or soulmate, and he never will be again. Because Geralt of Rivia had been all of those things to Jaskier, and he won't again. Because they are no more - with Jaskier dead and Geralt missing him fiercely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And the day where Geralt would have returned the favor and called Jaskier by his own names - his bard, little lark, songbird will never come. Because the day where Geralt would have given voice to all of the feelings beating in time with his heart will never come. Because he'll never spill his guts to Jaskier because Jaskier is not here to listen and cherish his words. Never be able to tell Jaskier what he really thought of his singing and his fancy doublets and blue eyes and soft brown hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Never be able to finally say those three words back to Jaskier when he had said "I love you" and kissed him because he knew Geralt wasn't any good with words. And now he'll never be able to make an effort to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything has always been simple and easy with Jaskier. It figures that losing him wouldn't be.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i can't stop thinking about them</p><p>check out my server: <a href="https://discord.gg/UBpDYdQ">spicy hot takes!</a></p><p>and yell at me on tumblr: <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/hamballlecture">hamballlecture.</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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